


One Foot in Front of the Other

by vx3 (Vix_La_Rue)



Category: Shame (2011)
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Anxiety Disorder, BDSM, Biphobia, Body Modification, Break Up, Cheating, Child Abuse, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Codependency, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cutting, Death References, Depression, Developing Relationship, Emotional Abuse, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, Jealousy, Literary References & Allusions, Masturbation, Mending Relationship, Mental Abuse, Mental Health Issues, Minor Violence, Miscarriage, Mutual Masturbation, Non-Sexual Touching, Obsessive-Compulsive, Past Relationship(s), Possessive Behavior, Psychological Trauma, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Public Sex, Recovery, Recreational Drug Use, References to Suicide, Rough Sex, Self-Harm, Sex Addiction, Sexual Harassment, Shower Sex, Sissy is Ophelia, Suicide Attempt, Teen Pregnancy, Underage Sex, Victim Blaming, body image issues, dom!Sissy, long fic, sub!Brandon, this has a lot of tags okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 16:47:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vix_La_Rue/pseuds/vx3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brandon is willing to do anything to make things right with Sissy. Can they really start over?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Yesterday Will Find You

It took a while before Brandon could bring himself to speak. Sissy hadn't said a word since she called him an asshole. She was right. Brandon was that and a whole bunch of other things.

Finally, Brandon said, “The doctor said they want to keep you here for observation.” He saw Sissy bite her lip, and there were tears forming in her eyes.

Brandon said quietly, “I’m sorry.”

Sissy said, “I don’t think you’ve ever told me that.”

“Probably not,” Brandon said, feeling more ashamed of himself than usual. There was so much more he wanted to say, but he couldn’t dump all of that on Sissy now. Gently running a hand through her hair, he said, “You need your rest. I’ll go.”

Sissy uttered in a small voice, “Brandon.”

Brandon understood Sissy’s pained expression. Sixteen years ago, in a hospital in Jersey, Brandon fucked up everything for them. It was that day that Brandon left home, and he left his little sister in that bad place with those bad people. They were both still paying for his mistakes. He was even more hesitant to leave now.

“You need to rest,” Brandon said. “I’ll come back tomorrow, I promise.”

Brandon only broke down after he left the hospital, in the middle of the street. It was only then when reality overcame him. Brandon could no longer block out the past he’d been running from. He’d never be rid of it because Sissy would always be there, even when she wasn’t.

He almost lost her today, and it would have been his fault. Brandon pretended to be indifferent towards Sissy, and it almost killed her.

He never felt like he had another choice, though. He wasn’t blind. He knew how deep her dependency on him ran, and how every move she made was to draw him in. Brandon didn’t deserve her, after everything he put her through over the years, and he decided that bridge burned after what happened with David.

If only he had the foresight to keep that bastard away from his sister. Brandon knew why Sissy slept with David, and really, he was to blame for that, too. Sissy wanted to make Brandon jealous, but it worked too well and her plan backfired. God, why did it have to be David? Brandon knew she saw it, too, so why?

All Brandon knew was that Sissy still loved him. After how much he hurt her and how many times he fucked up, she still loved him. Sissy knew how broken, dirty, and pathetic Brandon was. She saw him for all he was, she saw him at his worst, and she kept coming back to him. Sissy never gave up on him.

Brandon thought to take a shower when he got home. However, as he stood in the doorway, all he could think about was Sissy’s motionless, bloody body. Brandon felt sick, but he couldn’t stay like this. He had to wash the night off of him. He had to do away with it. He’d deal with the blood later.

In the shower, Brandon masturbated willingly to thoughts of his sister. Usually, the images of Sissy came uninvited, just like her, especially at times like this. He had very vivid memories of him and Sissy showering together. Brandon sometimes felt weird about jerking off to those memories. Sissy was fourteen then. But, was it any less wrong back then, since he was eighteen? Despite that, it never stopped Brandon once he gave in to those thoughts.

He remembered how innocently it would start. He could practically feel Sissy’s small, soapy hands on his back, and when he closed his eyes, he saw her smiling up at him demurely. Brandon would wash her hair, careful to keep shampoo out of her eyes. As their hands roamed over each other’s bodies, it became much less innocent. Brandon would take a bit too long lathering her breasts, and Sissy very thoroughly cleaned his cock.

“Sissy...” Brandon gasped, thrusting into his own hand. He could almost hear her giggle, so satisfied with herself for being able to evoke desire in him. He remembered how Sissy would mewl with ecstasy when he fucked her up against the shower wall.

As Brandon climaxed, his little sister’s name was on his lips.

Later, Brandon called work just to say he wouldn’t be there for a while. He unwillingly explained to David that Sissy had an accident and would need to be looked after for a while. The last thing Brandon wanted to do was talk to David, especially about Sissy, but he had no choice. David may have been sympathetic, and he didn’t fight Brandon on taking the time off to look after Sissy, but it didn’t make Brandon feel any better about things.

“She needs me,” Brandon said. “Like she will never need you.”

“You’re a good brother, Brandon,” David said. “Hope Sissy feels better.”

If Brandon had actually been there in David's office, he knew David would have tried to kiss him, or slap his ass on his way out. Despite it not even happening, the thought made Brandon want to tear David apart. Most times, David’s inappropriate behaviour made Brandon extremely uncomfortable and helpless. Right now, Brandon wanted to kill him. Brandon hadn't felt such violent intent toward somebody in years.

The silence of the apartment seemed eerie to Brandon. Usually, it didn’t bother him. Something about it was so wrong now. It always did right after Sissy departed.

With porn, hookers, or anything sex related out of the question, Brandon didn’t know what to do with himself.

“What did I used to do before my penis took over my brain?” Brandon thought. The immediate answer his mind came up with was Sissy.

He decided to occupy his time by watching TV, and then stumbled upon an old episode of some show he and Sissy used to watch with their babysitter, Laura.

Their parents worked a lot and were hardly ever home during the day. Laura was only a teenager, but Brandon and Sissy considered her a grownup, and one of the few they felt safe around. Brandon and Sissy would always beg Laura to stay after their parents came home.

She must have eventually caught on to the desperation in their pleas because, one day, Brandon heard his mother screaming at Laura. She was calling Laura crazy, and to never come near her children again. Laura never came back after that, and their parents rationalized her absence with, “Brandon, you're twelve. You're old enough to stay home alone and take care of your sister.”

Brandon wondered why everything was a trigger for childhood memories lately. He knew the answer. He just didn't like it.

Brandon thought he should take some of Sissy's stuff to her tomorrow. Her bag was still on the table, where she left it last night, and her coat was thrown over the chair. Brandon didn’t know why he approached the bag with such caution. Possibly because he knew it wasn’t right to go through it. And yet, that did little to hinder him.

Sissy had another bag full of her clothes, and those two were all she took with her as she travelled. She was always moving around, always to get away from something or someone, and sometimes it was Brandon she was running away from.

Brandon sat down and rifled through Sissy’s purse, and among the items in there, he found five books.

It was a surprise to find, in Sissy’s bag, his old copies of The Lord of the Rings trilogy and The Hobbit. Brandon left them back at their parents’ house. He left suddenly and in a fit of anger, taking no personal items with him. As far as Brandon knew, once their parents knew the whole story, they disowned Sissy. She couldn’t return home once she was released from the hospital, so how did she get these?

The other book was a small, worn photo album. Brandon opened it up, and the first picture in there was of him and Sissy the day she was brought home. He was just four years old, but he remembered clearly the moment he first held his little sister. He was in awe of the tiny infant his mother placed in his arms, and he knew immediately he had a responsibility to protect his baby sister.

Brandon turned the page to see a family photo with their parents torn out of it. It was just Brandon and Sissy. That was how it always was. As soon as Sissy could walk, she followed Brandon around everywhere. Neither of them had many friends growing up. Teachers and relatives always commented that the siblings were too close.

The next picture was Brandon and Sissy on the couch, kissing. Brandon was eighteen, and Sissy was fourteen. It was lopsided, since Sissy was trying to simultaneously take the picture and make out with her brother.

Brandon gazed at the picture for some time. They were so young and careless, especially Sissy, but they were happy.

When Brandon told Marianne his longest relationship lasted four months, what he didn't tell her was that it was with his sister.

Brandon spent the whole night looking through those pictures, remembering a childhood that now seemed like someone else’s life. During that time, he took to cuddling Sissy’s jacket like a blanket, breathing in her scent, her cheap perfume, and the old smell of her vintage clothes. He fell asleep at the table, reminiscing.


	2. Affliction

Sissy awoke to the sight of Brandon sitting in the chair by her bed, reading The Fellowship of the Ring. She silently watched him, her heart aching. In that moment, the resemblance to the person he used to be was stronger than ever. She remembered that boy, and she still believed he was in there, somewhere.

When Brandon looked up from his book to meet her gaze, he managed a small smile, but Sissy didn't miss the sorrow there.

“You came,” she said quietly, in disbelief.

“Of course I did,” Brandon answered.

Sissy's gaze fell to the decrepit paperback in Brandon's hands, and she said, “You found them.”

“How did you get them?” Brandon asked. “Didn't...?”

“I broke in while they weren't home,” Sissy answered.

Sissy didn't have to explain why she took the books. Brandon understood, and it just reaffirmed what he already knew.

“I spoke to the doctor,” said Brandon. “They're transferring you to the psych ward later.”

Sissy's eyes widened in fear, and she said, “So they're locking me up.”

“Sissy, you tried to kill yourself,” Brandon said. “It's for your own good.” The silence his words were met with made Brandon uneasy. He knew why Sissy was so upset.

“You're just a crazy little bitch. Nobody will believe you. Insanity runs in the family, and if you're not careful, you'll be put in a place where you'll never see the light of day again.”

“I'm sorry,” he said.

“For what?” Sissy responded. “I'm the crazy one.”

Brandon reached out and took Sissy's hand. Their eyes met, and without giving it a second thought, Brandon asked, “Why? Why did you do it? You were doing so much better the last time I saw you.”

“You know why,” Sissy answered.

Anger flared inside of Brandon. Was Sissy really so convinced she couldn't live without him? Despite that, Brandon was still angrier with himself than he was at Sissy.

“We've both hit rock bottom, haven't we?” Sissy asked. The hopelessness she emitted pained Brandon, and he found himself wishing he took it away when he still could. He wanted to erase the past and all his wrongdoing. He wanted to take her home and forget any of this ever happened.

Then, something registered in Brandon's mind. When all this was over, did Sissy even want to come home with him? The other night, Brandon wanted nothing more than for Sissy to leave, but the thought of her absence now tore him apart. Sissy was right. If she left, he might never see her again. He'd continue to shut her out. Sissy might kill herself, or find herself in harm's way and not be able to flee before it was too late.

Without a second thought, Brandon was on the bed beside Sissy, and he pulled her into his arms. She seemed so small and frail against him, but she was warm and alive. Her messed up, blond hair tickled Brandon's nose as he said, “Don't be afraid, Sissy. I'll be there for you through all of this, and when you get better, you'll come home.”

Sissy made no attempt to pull away. She sank into Brandon's embrace and closed her eyes. Still, she asked, “Wasn't this what you wanted?”

“No. I was wrong,” Brandon said as he shook his head. “I lost you over and over again for sixteen years, and yesterday I almost lost you forever.” His voice was shaking. When he got like this, it could last for days. Brandon couldn't decide if his vulnerability was a relief or a curse.

With great hesitance, Sissy returned Brandon's embrace. Was she really hearing this? Despite Brandon's words, Sissy didn't ask what she most wanted to. This was too good to be true, and if it really was, she didn't want to get her hopes up.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

As she averted her gaze to the floor, Sissy answered, “You don't have to be nice to me, especially not just because I tried to kill myself.”

Brandon shook his head and kissed his sister's crown. He said, “It has nothing to do with that. You're my sister, and it's my responsibility to take care of you.”

Sissy wasn't sure what to say to that. After all that was said that night, Brandon did a complete one-eighty. Maybe that was what she wanted, but there was no way of knowing it would last. How could she just forget everything he said to her?

Then, Brandon said. “I almost forgot. I have something for you.”

Brandon stood up and grabbed the bag that had been sitting by his chair. From it, he presented a housecoat and a pair of slippers. He bought them for Sissy on the way to the hospital.

Sissy commented, “I'm not an old lady, Brandon.” Regardless, she smiled as she put on the housecoat. It was comfy and leaf bud green, as were the slippers. There were little, pink flowers embroidered on them that resembled eglantine.

How Brandon remembered some random type of flora was beyond him. He remembered eglantine, but he couldn't remember how to restrain himself from humping anything that moved.

Sitting back in his chair, Brandon watched Sissy, and felt a flicker of joy when she gave him a small smile and thanked him.

Sitting back on the bed, Sissy looked at Brandon intently. She was holding back, like he was, but Brandon wasn't going to burden her with silence this time. “What is it?” he asked.

“What about you?” Sissy asked. “You and this sex addiction thing.”

“I'm going to do the same thing as you,” Brandon said. “I'm going to get better. I want to.”

“I'm sorry,” Sissy said.

“For what?” Brandon asked. “I was the one who was a dick.”

“For pushing you the way I did,” Sissy answered. “I knew something was up, but I never thought it was that serious. I thought... I don't know what I thought. I was selfish.”

Brandon said, “We both fucked up. We were both selfish. We both made mistakes. We'll be okay.” Brandon wasn't sure how much of that last bit was true, but it's what Sissy needed to hear. “We'll talk more about this later. You should be resting.”

Sissy nodded and got under the covers. She lied on her side and kept her eyes on Brandon, and Brandon's eyes often wandered from the page to Sissy.

“Shouldn't you be at work?” Sissy asked.

Maybe Brandon taking time off was a bit premature. However, it was probably for the best he stayed away from the office for the time being, and especially from David.

“It's too triggering,” he explained.

 

When Brandon came home, he was faced with the same dilemma as yesterday. What was he supposed to do without feeding his addiction? He was already pushing it by allowing himself to masturbate, and he was only justifying that to himself by trying to do it less often and only using mental images.

Luckily, reading was an effective distraction. Brandon loved reading when he was younger. It was one of his few solaces during his chaotic childhood and teen years. He filled his head with stories and information, partly because of a love of knowledge and narrative, and partly because maybe it would drown out every painful thing he wished he could forget. It had been years since he read anything in his spare time. There were lots of things he used to love that he didn't do anymore.

Brandon was a geek when he was younger. Who was he kidding? He still was one. Sometimes, he just couldn't help uttering an Avengers reference or comparison of David's wife to Lady Macbeth.

It never sat well with Brandon when that part of him, something about him that was actually real, showed itself to the world. Even when it was just him, he hated being honest with himself, especially when he was his own worst critic. Even as a child, he rarely let his guard down. Brandon's sociability and flirtation was all a shallow act. It was even forced when it came to Marianne, despite liking her and being able to trust her. Liking someone and being able to tell them half-truths weren't enough.

Brandon thought back to those nights he and Sissy would lie awake and talk about the future. They dreamt of New York ever since they were kids. They wanted to leave ever since they knew that was a possibility. A few more months, and they could have. It could have all gone according to plan. If only Brandon hadn't reacted so badly to something that didn't even make a difference.

Back then, all Brandon needed was Sissy and the idea of a life free of fear. Now, his worst fears had all come true.

Reading wasn't going to work.

 

At his worst, Brandon wished he would get hit by a car or something while running. It wasn't that Brandon was athletic or anything. He just needed a mindless activity to ease his anxiety when nothing else worked. Running was something he picked up when his “quirks” were always interfered with and real help wasn't an option. Brandon had to adapt or crash and burn, and like hell he would let that happen.

Occasionally turning to therapy helped ebb the worst of Brandon's neurosis, but interference with his normal routine was causing him more distress than he was used to. However, Brandon lived for years on that thin line between preservation and destruction. The fact that he was forcing himself away from the way of living he was accustomed to, and he was pushing himself through the worst of it, had to count for something. It had to count that he was choosing Sissy over everything he turned to when what they had fell apart. There was no other way.

Brandon remembered being lectured by his shrink about how these things he was dealing with wouldn't go away on their own. The possibility of him having PTSD was brought up more than once, and Brandon's phobic avoidance of emotional intimacy was a favourite topic of discussion. Brandon knew that. He fucking knew he had deal with it, but he couldn't bring himself to accept what that meant.

“When are you going to stop playing the victim?”

It was completely backwards. At least Sissy was trying. Brandon, on the other hand, couldn't even admit to himself that was what he was. It was all he was. Sometimes, Brandon wondered if that was all he could be.

Brandon avoided the areas he usually went to when he needed any of his fixes. He would run, music blaring in his ears, until he couldn't breathe anymore. Then, he'd drag himself back to his apartment, where he'd collapse into bed and risk the nightmares.


End file.
